Teddy sighed. “No. And that really stresses me out.”

The glow in the hills seemed to fade then get brighter, like the sun setting behind a cloud. But dusk was long gone and dawn was still some hours away. Peter scoured the ridge, trying to find a source for the light, cursing the day this boy decided to make a best friend of him.

“Now,” said Teddy. “Guess what my business would be called if I opened a foot spa.”

“You know you don’t have to find something new to say all the time, don’t you?”

“Guess.”

“I’m OK with silences.”

“Teddy-Cure!”

Peter wasn’t entirely sure he got the joke. But once again, Teddy’s face told him that he’d made one and he simply didn’t have the heart or the patience to disappoint him, so Peter faked a smile and wandered over to the tree that Cooper had stood beneath.

He ran his fingertips down the length of the trunk, feeling the coarse hairs on the husk of the copper bark, rough but warm against the palm of his hand. He leaned into the tree, feeling the weight of it against his chest and watched the red glow over the hills, aware of the opportunity he had to go up there. Aware of the opportunity he had to empty Cooper’s rucksack while he was away, too. Peter’s hands fell away from the tree and he heard Teddy approach. He was about to make his excuses when he felt the mood in the air shift and Teddy’s voice came in quietly behind him.

“They’re out here most nights,” he said.

Peter turned. There was a seriousness in Teddy’s face that hadn’t existed before, like all the pitiful energy he spent trying to please people had suddenly dropped away to reveal another Teddy beneath.

“Who’s out here?” Peter asked.

Teddy held eye contact. But he didn’t answer that question, like he refused to pander to any stupid attempt at ignorance, so Peter changed it.

“Are they? Are they out here most nights?”

Teddy nodded.

“How do you even know that?”

“I’ve watched them. They leave town a little after midnight and go up on to the ridge where the red glow is coming from.”

“It’s probably just a campfire,” said Peter, relieved that this sudden suggestion seemed to fit so nicely. “And they probably just have things in common to talk about.”

“Yes,” said Teddy. “A bit like us.”

Peter winced. “Us?” There was no us. But he didn’t have the heart to say it.

“I know you don’t like me much, Peter, but I can go up there and find out what they’re doing if you like.”

“It’s not that I don’t like you, Teddy. It’s just that—”